Fear and Loathing
by Middendorffi
Summary: "You're a new vampire, Elena, you need warm blood, from the vein. Maybe this will do the trick. –Or not—but just—don't tell Stefan." She's breathing heavily now, not taking her eyes off the blood for more than a second. "Why not?" lemon/Delena/4.03 AU
1. Chapter 1- Fear and Loathing

**I. Fear and Loathing**

_Don't wanna live in fear and loathing_

_I wanna feel like I am floating_

_Instead of constantly exploding_

I close the door behind us, locking it. She's looking between the door and me suspiciously now. "What are you doing?" _What does she think I'm going to do, exactly_? I ignore both questions, _and _all their possible immoral answers and bite into my hand. "Giving you what you need." I say, holding my palm out towards her. "Drink." Elena stares down at the blood welling up from my hand, entranced. "_What_?"

"You're a new vampire, Elena, you need warm blood, from the vein. Maybe this will do the trick. –Or not—but just—don't tell Stefan." She's breathing heavily now, not taking her eyes off the blood for more than a second. "Why not?" She breathes. _Oh boy. How do I say this? _"Because…blood sharing is kind of—personal." _That's an understatement._ "What do you mean it's personal?" _I mean Stefan will kill me if he finds out_. Which, undoubtedly, he will; Elena's never been one to keep things from her _other half. _"—Just _drink_." She looks down to my hand, I can tell she wants to, and then she looks up at me, unsure, and I nod, urging her on. Her flimsy resolve crumbles and she grabs my wrist and her fangs come out immediately, and she groans, sinking them into my hand.

_I love her like this_. Her eyes darken, the veins under them standing at attention, the slight snarl to her lips before she bites down. Elena the animal, the predator, _not_ the easily killed human girl. _I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel grateful to Rebekah sometimes. _To see her like this, so strong, so _alive_, it makes it all worth it. She pushes her fangs deeper, the taste of my blood spurring her on, and the pain is torturous, and searing, and wonderful.

It's hard to draw a breath. The feeling of her drawing on my blood, taking _me_ inside her, her nails digging into my hand, it's all too much. Elena's making these excruciatingly sexy breathy-moaning noises. _Damn her. Damn her for making me feel this way_.

She's very close to me now, and her head rests against my chest. I stroke her silky hair, reassuring her that everything's okay, that what she's doing is _definitely_ okay. _As if she cares right now. _My legs feel weak, and when she pushes into me aggressively, drawing even _harder_, I stumble backwards and my back hits the wall. I am fucking rock hard; I swear I could cut through steel cable. It's taking all I have not to grind against her. _Hell, it's taking everything to not fucking jump her in this bathroom, right now_.My veins are absolutely _singing _for her, the strange pulling sensation lighting fire to my senses. I feel like I'm in a dream. _Nothing should feel this good_.

I'm feeling lightheaded, and I know I need to ask her to stop. But the euphoria of her bite makes me hesitate. _I don't want it to stop. Ever._

I have to focus so that I have enough air in my lungs to speak. "Elena, enough." She doesn't respond. "_Elena_." I repeat, tugging my arm lightly. Her body pushes me hard into the wall and a feral growl rumbles from her petite little mouth as she digs deeper with her fangs, grinding her teeth a little, tearing more flesh than she needs to. I feel my fangs drop as intense pain shoots up my arm and I moan, my eyes roll back into my head and I forget what a moment what I need to do.

"Elena, —ah—I don't want to hurt you. You _need_ to let _go_—or you're going—ughn—to hurt me." I grunt out. I feel her swallow hard against my hand, there's a pause, and she finally rips her fangs out of me. _Goddamn that hurts_. "Okay, _ouch_." I mutter, moving my hand to eye level to inspect before the incriminating damage disappeared. It is an absolute, bloody, shredded mess. _She fucking tore my hand open_. "Maaybe try a little gentler with your next meal, kay?" I realize she's not talking and I'm worried that she's put herself on a classic Elena Gilbert guilt trip. _Here comes the cry-to-Stefan-about-it express. Great._ "Elena?"

Shock hits me when a look up from my hand and see her face. She still has her vampire face on, breathing heavily with blood—_my blood_—dripping from her mouth. _Fuck, she looks hot. _"Hel-_loo_, earth to Elena?" I try, raising an eyebrow. _Why hasn't she moved away yet?_

Before I know what's happening, she vampire speeds into me, shoving me back up against the wall. I try to ignore the ache in my hard-on this causes and intend to ask her, just when the hell is it that she _lost her mind_? She looks straight into my eyes, tilting her head, using those inky pools of darkness narrowed in animalistic appraisal. "I wasn't _done_." She grumbles, and slams her lips into mine.

_What on earth—?_

My eyes close and I let myself get lost in the sensation of her mouth hungrily moving against mine. Then reality rears its ugly head. _It's just blood lust; she doesn't know how to separate hunger and pleasure._ Then, _she's with your brother. She's happy with him. He'll kill you. _Stop _her!_

Fucking good conscious. What a jack-off.

I pull her off, grasping the back of her neck, and she makes an angry huff. "Easy there, drinky. Look, I _really_ don't want to, but I can't let you do this." I sigh, shove her slightly back, and she stumbles backwards, looking at me with loathing. My tongue moves to lick at the blood she smeared on my face of its own accord. Elena watches intently. She folds her arms across her chest and speaks, "Yeah, why's that?" I roll my eyes and then point to them. "Because of _this_." While my own eyes are already cleared, hers are still raging with a vampire's lust. _This is what she gets for trying to live Stefan's way: horrible lack of control_. I don't know _what_ my little brother was thinking.

I groan, "It was a _mistake_, Elena..." I run my hand through my hair anxiously, "I won't tell him if you don't. It wasn't your fault." She shakes her head, and I swear, if I didn't love her so much, I would kill her. _Why can't she just make it easy for me?_ "No, Damon." She insists. I pull at my hair. _Has she gone mad?_ I use my vampire speed to move close to her, looking down at her. "_What_? Are you really going to risk your relationship with White-Knight Stefan for a little blood-hazed fun? You're not in the state of mind to be making a decision like this, _so just forget about it_." My voice is cold, I know that, but she needs to understand, to think beyond her vampire hormones. Never mind what I want.

Her voice comes to my ears, just a peep. "Bite me." I drag my hand across my face and move to exit through the door. She grabs my arm. "_Damon_, I'm serious, do it and we'll be on even ground. It'll be _both_ of our faults." Her voice is frantic, angry, _and horny_. Having _her_ drink from _me_ is bad enough. To do it back to her? That's Stefan wishing _me_ an eternity of misery level; and _he'd_ probably mean it. "No, _no way_." I yank my arm away from her grasp. I have my handle on the doorknob when the smell hits me. My hand drops from the door automatically and I narrow my eyes at her, tilting my head. _She fucking cut herself._ Her nails are still by her throat, smeared with red, hovering there, and her vampire face is still going strong, a challenge in her eyes.

Vampire blood may not be as appetizing as human blood, but her blood was all _Elena_, and that more than made up for it. She smells similar to what she did as a human—which is really fucking tasty—but with the distinct pheromones of a predator, not prey. I'm already pumped up as it is, having a hard time controlling myself; doing the _right thing_…she sure knew which buttons to push. My eyes cloud and my fangs throb painfully in my mouth.

_I'm __**really**__ going to hate myself after this._

"Bad move, baby vampire."

I shove her against the wall, letting a growl tear through my throat. I don't waste any time, and go directly for her bleeding neck. Her skin is soft, like a peach, and I can't help but let my tongue merely drag across the wound first, tasting it. Then biting into its ripeness, a wave of self-loathing and ecstasy rushing through me, into me. She tastes like heaven, sweet, hot, fast-pumping, Elena _heaven_.

_I'm going to whatever hell there is out there_. _And I couldn't care less._

My straining jeans rub against her of their own free will, and she moans and pushes my head against her neck with her hand. I'm gulping down her blood like its fucking lager on St. Patricks' Day. _I can't get enough of it_. I'm drunk on it, and my hands roam up and down her arms; grip her hips, her hair, _anything_ at all. _This_ was blood sharing. This was _sin_. This was _fucking_ fantastic.

I pull out of her neck before I lose myself completely.

"_Shit_." I murmur, feeling like I just single handedly ruined her life. Her perfect boyfriend, her perfect morals. _It's all fucked._ Her eyes are starting to clear, and I feel a terrifying sort of fear that I've finally done it, she'll be done with me. Elena blinks twice, as if waking up, and takes two big steps backwards. "Oh my god." She breathes, hand reaching up to touch her mouth. "I-I just—" She looks scared, of what I'm not so sure, but it makes me want to take my ring off and walk right into the sun. _Damage control, think, Damon_. "Elena, listen to me, this never should have happened." She stares at me with wide eyes. "So, I vote that we act like it didn't." She opens her mouth to protest—"Ah, ah, ah! We already agreed this was a no-Stefan telling zone."

Her face scrunches up, confused. "I don't know what happened, Damon, I—" I cut her off, "—It was blood lust, its _normal_, Elena, you just got caught up in it, you're young. _I_ shouldn't have…" She doesn't look convinced. "Come on; let's get you home, you can sleep on it before you go blabbing to brother dearest." I say, putting my hand on her shoulder, a strictly non-romantic gesture.

On the way home, she's quiet, and my idiotic body keeps mistaking the tension in the car for sexual charge.

_When will I learn?_

_When my brother puts a stake through my heart?_

**AN: Like it? Hate it? Tell me all about it, you magnificent bastards.**

**Could you possibly...want more?**


	2. Chapter 2- Blue Light

**II. Blue Light**

_And you didn't even notice_

_When the sky turned blue_

_And you couldn't tell the difference_

_Between me and you_

I wrench my mouth away from the young, blond, animal rights activist's neck before I take too much and have to deal with _that_ kind of unpleasant mess. She told me her name, but I can't really remember right now.

_Misty? Cynthia? Something like that…_

I settle for 'Hey'.

She looks up at me, and once I'm sure she's focused, I go about erasing her memory of this. "—and put a Band-Aid on that when you get home." I add, getting up to leave. I probably should have been a little more thorough, but I was getting sloppy…er. Feelings of impending doom can do that to a person.

Elena hasn't told Stefan what happened, at least as far as I know right now. When she _does_, shit will hit the fan in pretty much the worst way possible. Elena doesn't need any more on her plate than she already has with her change, and whatever her feelings for me, I'm pretty damn sure my brother going all Kill Bill on me would stress her out majorly. So, for her sake—and mine—I'm hoping she keeps quiet.

I open the door to the Salvatore boarding house as casually as possible while still anticipating a debilitating tackle to the ground. I listen intently—_he's not here_. Through my relief, I wonder just what exactly my little bro _is_ doing all the time now—he's almost never here. _Oh well, another problem for another day_.

I immediately head for the good scotch, eager to get the taste of _hippy_ out of my mouth. The pleasant, cleansing burn is a godsend. _I __**hate**__ vegans_. It can't be much better than the squirrels Stefan munches on. Thin, grassy, and just plain dull. _Nothing like Elena's blood, that's for goddamn sure._ A little shudder runs through me at the completely welcome images the thought brings. _Elena—my blood dripping from her mouth. Elena—moaning against my hand. Elena—growling at me_.

A buzzing coming from my pants pocket snaps me out of my reminiscing. I fish my phone out of my pocket and stare at the screen. _Speak of the devil—_

"What?" I answer, tossing back the rest of the scotch and placing the class on the coffee table in front of me with a loud clank. _Whatever this is, it can't be good_. She was either going to give me the heads up before she lets Stefan loose on me, or—

_Or?_

"Damon?" She questions, likely a bit put off by my tone.

"The one and only." I smirk, laying back against the couch and putting my feet up on the coffee table.

I hear a sigh on her end and then—nothing.

"Cat got your tongue?" I quip, quickly pouring myself another drink—I'll be needing it.

A deep breath—"I, um…" _This could take a while._ "I need your help again."

Miraculously not spilling my drink, I sit up with vampire speed. "Come again?"

"_Not_ like before." She quickly qualifies, and I lean back slightly, both disappointed and relieved—and not really surprised. "I want to learn how to do this vampire thing _right_, and I figure Stefan's not the person to ask, soo…"

"So?" I repeat, not quite satisfied until I hear her spell it out.

"_So_, I don't want to hurt anyone, Damon. I want you to teach me how to…hunt."

"Humans?"

"Yes."

"Sure."

"Sure?"

"_Sure_. Be ready tomorrow at 9 PM. We'll take a little trip to some—_hunting grounds_. See you then." I push the 'end call' button before any objections come out of her silly little mouth. She'll be ready; I'm not worried in the slightest about that. I am confused as to why she hasn't told Stefan about our little indiscretion in the bathroom of the Grill, however.

* * *

Elena comes outside without me knocking; she must have been waiting.

I look at her worried, unsure face, and grin.

I wonder…

"Does Stefan know you're doing this?" I ask.

"Of course he does." She scoffs. I raise an eyebrow but decide not to comment further. "He seemed distracted, though, I'm not so sure he really even cared." She puts the little duffle bag she's carrying into the car. "We're coming back tonight." I immediately regret the words; there could have been a whole lot of _opportunity_ in prolonging this.

She shrugs. "How was I supposed to know? It's better to be prepared, anyway."

The ride to the college I have in mind is short-ish—two hours, and surprisingly, the time passes fairly quickly, despite the utter lack of conversation. Elena's wearing a brooding face that would rival even Stefan's, so I know she must be thinking of the blood sharing. She gives an unconscious huff and turns on the radio. It's playing pop music, and despite how much that generally gives me a feeling comparable to human indigestion, Elena starts singing the grotesquely teenage song about not giving a shit, and it's the most beautiful sound I've ever heard. She sees me looking and laughs, embarrassed.

* * *

I decide it's best to break the news to her as soon as we get there. "We're going to a costume party." I say, as soon as we're parked.

"You're joking, right?"

"Nope." I reach behind my seat and hold up the store-bought-admittedly-skimpy costume.

Elena's eyes widen. "That? I can't wear _that_!"

I toss it lightly to her, and she catches it. "You can, and you will. We passed the nearest costume shop three cities ago."

She narrows her eyes at me. "And what are _you _wearing?"

I pull out some slightly old school looking duds, smirking at her. _It's kind of a costume. _She rolls her eyes but doesn't argue further.

Elena heads to the nearest bathroom to get changed. _Despite my offer to do it right in the car_. My eyes nearly pop out of my head when she comes back out. The dark purple corset made of cheap latex and god knows what else, molds to her body perfectly, accentuating her thin waist and pushing up her pert little breasts. The top attaches to a Victorian-inspired mini-skirt, complete with a tight petticoat. _Time to get this party started_.

"A whole assortment of hyped up, dinner-to-go." I murmur into her ear, "Take your pick." I hear her swallow and she scans the room, eyes settling on a drunk with bulging eyes, dropping a pill into a girl's drink.

"That one." She gestures with her head. _That's my girl._ "What do I do?" Elena's stance shifts subtly, muscles tensing in anticipation, instinct pulling her into attack mode.

"Get him away from the crowd a bit. Give him the ol' Elena Gilbert come hither look, if you have to." She giggles. "Just do what comes _naturally_." I breathe, and I'm close enough to feel her shiver. I watch her stalk forward, flashing her pearly whites shyly at the rapist. He follows, like a moth to flame. I hang back for a bit, and then decide I'd better make sure she doesn't slip up.

The sight brings an ache to my groin. Elena has him pressed up against a wall, feeding somewhat noisily as he stares blankly ahead. She's being messy, probably—I hope—because I told her she could be, that it's the point of starting at a costume party. Not much hiding and no cleanup necessary.

I see her grip him harder and have a vivid flashback of something similar she did to me. But she's biting this dirt bag on the neck. _I wonder how that would feel…_ My face scrunches up as I remember my responsibility here. "Elena. The point is _not_ to kill him." I frown, stepping forward. That adorable, sexy little growl rumbles from her again. "_Elena_. Stop." Once again, she does, and immediately clears her tracks. "Go home, and forget this." She purrs at him, and he scurries off. I hear audibly the sound of her swallowing the last of the blood in her mouth, then turns to me, wiping the blood on her chin.

I'm excited for her, but I need to know that she is too. "How do you feel, Elena?" Her head tilts slightly and then a smile breaks across her face, like it's just occurring to her. "Great. I feel _really_ good." I can't help pumping my fist lightly in pride, and I hear her tinkling laughter. "Oh my god, I really did it!" She chuckles, surprising me by driving herself into my arms. "_Thank you_, Damon." She murmurs, hugging me tightly.

"No problem." I allow myself this small comfort, feeling her soft body pressed up against mine, appreciation emanating from her. I lean into her, taking in her smell, lavender soap, happiness, and the drying blood of her frat-boy victim.

Elena's hand moves to grip my hair, and she tilts her face up so that it's right next to my ear. "I want _more_." She whispers.

_This is going to be fun_.

* * *

Elena's got the hang of it now, effortlessly moving from body to body on the dance floor, _reveling_.

I decide quickly to join in on the fun, once I'm pretty sure she won't accidentally kill anybody. The air is thick with the aroma of spilled blood, a mark of our time here. I greedily devour a twenty-something, content to let her blood drip down my face. _It really is a freeing feeling, even for me_. Elena is dancing, and I feel the magnetic pull of all the goddamn _fun_ she's having, drifting towards her.

We dance, feeling the wondrous high of consuming _so_ much blood. Amazingly enough, she puts her arms around my neck, pulling me closer to her. She tilts her head back, giving a stunning view of the twin trails of blood running down the corners of her mouth, to her neckline, and grazing my lower body with her own. I want so badly to kiss her. To lick her. To _devour_ her.

But I know that's not what this is. This is fun. This is _reveling_, and I can't mess it up for her, no matter what. _I need to try._

Her eyes see the blood covering my chin and she swipes a finger in it, sucking it into her mouth. _Fuck, me_.

Elena's body is flush against mine, and I'm not entirely sure who's doing that is. We're more grinding against each other in time with the music now than dancing. _Which is perfectly all right with me_. I feel like I'm doing pretty well, considering. _What am I supposed to do, forbid her from touching me?_ I wouldn't dream of it.

My head is spinning pleasantly, and it doesn't even occur to me until it's too late that Elena's hands are tangled in my hair. She leans up, pressing her mouth to mine, and I let out an immediate moan. The beat of the music is thumping in my body and I can feel the tremors through both of us. _One_.

Instinctually, I tug Elena's bottom lip into my mouth, biting down on it, drawing blood. It tastes even better than I remember.

_It's mine_. _It's meant to be Mine._

The thought itself takes me by surprise, but the feeling behind it, crass and unreasonable as it is, drives me into a frenzy. _I want this, I want her._ I press harder against her, doing everything in my power to get a moan out of her, something to make this _real_. Too real to sweep under the rug.

I move away from her mouth, sucking hastily at her neck, not breaking the skin, just tasting. My fingers dig hard into her sides. I tug hard at her earlobe, sucking it into my mouth. It's a break through, and she moans, a breathy, pained sound, and she grabs my head in her hands, drags it back to hers and stares into my eyes. They're wide, and I'm not sure if what I see is her darkened eyes or mine reflected in hers.

It's a tipping point, I'm sure we can both sense.

_Yes? No? Stay? Go?_

I know what my answer is.

What it _always_ will be.

**AN: Does this count as a cliffhanger? I dunno. Tell me how you feel about it!**

**I appreciate every single person who reads-soooo much, but people who review/advise get extra appreciation vibes, for sure.**

**Yes, I removed Buzzkill Bonnie from the situation. Praise Allah.**


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